


Return By

by Notebooknote



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1283974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notebooknote/pseuds/Notebooknote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many ways this story could go, but this is the only way that matters to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I mean zero disrespect. I apologize for all and any inaccuracies.

"I'll - hey - I'm gonna give you my number. I just - what the fuck - I just gotta get a, uh, fuck."

Lewis Nixon was slurring his words. He had a considerable amount to drink at this party of Ivy League strangers. He handed a final paper in, went to his apartment, pre-drank a good portion of a bottle of Vat 69, made his way to some house off campus, drank some more, and was now shoving his hand around in his book bag, looking for a scrap of paper to write his number down for the girl in front of him.

“Just gimme a second an’ I’ll give you… Yep, I’ll give you my number and some words, free of charge,” he said as he pulled out a book. He flipped to a random page. He paused. 

“And your name, pretty lady?”

“Uh… It’s Kelly.”

“To Kelly, we should be alone together.” Nix wrote out the message, signed the book like it was an autograph, and finished it with his number, before handing it to her. He gave her a tired smile and turned on his heel, heading for the door. He made his appearance, talked to people he wouldn’t talk to again, and now he was done with it all. 

When he woke up the next morning, he didn’t care about or remember that he had given away not only his number, but also a library book, to a girl who he would never hear from again.

\--

Kelly was kind enough to return the library book, allowing both of them to forget that questionable party. The Book, however, would never be able to erase what was written in it. 

It was written in pen. Also the Book is an inanimate object.

The Book sat in the return box for a solid ten days, a week longer than it should have. The young man working at the library, one David Webster, was a bit preoccupied at the moment and had neglected his precious paperbound children in favour of helping his new boss, Henry Jones, get his bearings. That, and it was shark week on Discovery, luring the young man into the staff room and away from the steadily growing pile of books.

And so the Book waited among a startling amount of other books returned after the stresses of the end of term. In time, they would all find their way back into circulation, pages smoothed and dog eared by other students, bindings cracked over time spent read on the subway. Some books, mostly the children’s picture books, would end up more defaced than the one containing a phone number. All books would end up with a new face staring into them, in a new pair of hands.

Such was the fate of the Book. After two days of resting on the shelf, it was picked up by another student for a bit of light reading and relaxation. Stuffed in a backpack, along with several other books, the Book with the Number continued on. Two weeks, four days, three hours and twenty minutes after having left Lewis Nixon’s bag and Lewis Nixon’s number written in it, the Book sat upon a desk four blocks away from the public library, five and a half blocks away from the party house, and seven blocks away from the phone the number led to.

\--

Harry Welsh was bored. He missed his girlfriend, Kitty Grogan. He didn’t really want to do whatever work he should have been doing. His roommate, who also happened to be his best friend, wouldn’t be much fun to go out with, on account of his dedication to doing work he should be doing and because he didn’t drink. Ever. Harry had to make fun in his own way, all from the comforts of their apartment.

“Dick. Dick. Dick. Let’s watch a movie. Dick, I’ll let you choose whatever romcom you want.”

“Sorry, Harry. I’ve got a paper to write. You can still watch a movie. Nothing’s stopping you,” replied Richard Winters, laughing at the genre thrown out. Richard went back to his studying. He was known for being the closest thing to a real life Stepford Son. He was calm, kind, polite, did everything he should with the best intentions. He was intelligent, a good leader, and rather athletic. This earned him a reputation among his friends and the respect of everyone around him. People would have believed he were a robot if it weren’t for his tendency to turn as red as his hair at the mention of a date.

“But I can’t have fun when you’re sitting there, making me look bad.”

“One, I’m not making you do anything. Two, we’re the only ones in this apartment.”

“Okay fine. I’ll just call George and watch a movie with him. We’ll watch one of his favourite movies right here, in the living room, and I’ll have to turn up the volume just so I can hear the movie over George’s top notch commentary.” George Luz was well known for his spot on impressions, running commentary, and big brown eyes. “And if George is here, I can’t begin to understand how you’ll be able to concentrate”

“That’s fine. I can study in my room,” Dick responded easily. Harry knew he was slowly going to lose against Winters’ iron will. He quickly ditched the idea of George the distraction in favour of himself being the distraction. He draped himself over Dick’s desk.

“Dick, how can you choose these bricks over me? I’m a lot cuter than they are. Kitty even said so,” he said, pawing at the stacks of books neatly arranged on the corner of the desk. “You’d be better off, taking a break before you burn yourself to a nub, watching a movie than reading your way through to an early grave of academic achievement.”

He picked up the closest book as he continued on in his speech – “Come on. Just one movie. These things don’t have any pictures. Y’know what has pictures? Movies. They’re books made of moving pictures, Dick.” – and flipped through the pages. The book he picked up was none other than The Book and soon he landed on something he deemed better than moving pictures.

It was the answer to his boring prayers. You beautiful baby, you. Seven lovely numbers and a promising autograph. Harry stopped talking, the abruptness of it earning a questioning glance from Dick. He rolled off the desk and calmly walked out of the room. He came back seconds later, phone up to his ear.

“Are you calling George?” Dick asked, still a little apprehensive about Harry’s sudden change in operations. 

“Better.” 

“Better?” 

“Oh. Here.”

\--

His phone buzzed. 

Lew was lying, face down, on his couch. He lifted his head, pawing around with his hand in search of his phone. He picked it up and saw the unknown number. Who the fuck? 

Click.

\--

“Hey, if this is some telemarketing shit, I am not in the mood.” Tired.

“Hello?” Tentative.

“Why are you calling me so damn early? Who is this?” Irritated.

“Um… It’s almost five in the evening. Are you okay?” Concerned.

“What? Of course I’m okay.” Exhausted.

“Oh. Alright then. Who am I speaking with?” Polite.

“Lewis – wait. I asked you first. You called me.” Confused.

“Well, actually, my friend called you. I’m sorry for bothering you.” Sincere.

“Who’s your friend? What do they want?” Suspicious.

“Harry Welsh. At this point. I’m not sure if you actually know each other.” Thoughtful.

“Harry? I don’t think I know a Harry.” Agreed.

“I’m sorry I bothered you then. It’s just my friend’s idea of entertainment. Have a nice evening.” Apologetic.

“Wait.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a small GK cameo in this chapter because I've been on a bit of a binge.

His hand froze. He heard it. Slowly, he put the phone back to his ear.

“You weren’t bothering me. I just – Sorry. Tough time.”

“Do you, maybe, want to talk about it?” Dick tried. He heard a laugh on the other end.

“Why would you care? I still don’t even know your name.”

“Sorry, it’s Dick.”

“Sorry your dick?” He turned bright red. Harry, who was still sitting beside him with his ear as close to the phone as Dick would allow him, poorly stifled a laugh. 

“No, it’s my name. My name is Richard.”

“Geez. Sorry.”

“Will you two stop apologizing to each other,” Harry interjected.

“Harry?”

“Harry.”

“How did he – how did you get my number?” Harry opened The Book to the page.

“You wrote it in a book for a girl,” Harry answered.

“It was a library book,” Dick added, tone hinted with reprimand.

“I have zero recollection of such actions.”

“I’m assuming this is your signature in here. Along with –”

“WE SHOULD BE ALONE TOGETHER?!” Harry yelled.

\--

The first time they met up, after speaking on the phone for hours, they got bacon sandwiches and coffee. 

The fourth time they met up, they went to the Spaghetti Factory and saw Dick’s old boss, a hard ass until Dick got offered a better job. 

The eleventh time they hung out, they don’t really. Nix comes over to Dick and Harry’s apartment. Nix is irritated and Dick just stares at him, offering whatever wisdom he can. He watches him drink and pace and talk about –

“Kathy? I thought her name was Kelly.” 

“No. Kathy. Who the hell is Kelly?”

“Kelly’s the name in the book. I’ll show you next time.”

\--

It was a messy break up.

\--

He sat watching the cars speeding past the window of the small student run café. Bravo was run by a small, jittery man, who looked like he drank more than half of the café’s inventory, and a man who was the complete opposite, tall, still, and alarmingly Viking-like. He liked the café, the coffee, people, even the strange music mix they had playing just loud enough to hear over the murmurs of conversation and the singing of the smaller barista. Right now, Tainted Love was spilling out of the speakers and a smiling mouth. Dick turned to look at the door as it opened.

“You’re gonna strain your neck if you keep doing that, sir,” the taller man said. 

He stared down into his coffee before reaching down into his bag for The Book. He hasn’t even really read it yet. He set it on the table and flipped through the pages. When he reached the phone number, he noticed another presence at the table.

“Here. I got you another coffee,” he said, as he set it down in front of Dick. “That’s a good book. Sorry you got stood up, homes.” 

It wasn’t really a date. He was just trying to support his new friend going through a break up. 

\--

“I don’t even know where he lives, Lip.”

“I might know someone who could help with that.”

“Who?”

“Remember that guy who used to scare the living shit out of, well, everyone?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this took so long. I know this was supposed to end the story, but I have terrible writer's block and I realized that a lot of my stuff doesn't make sense. It isn't even a really long chapter, I just wanted to update it for you guys.
> 
> Also, a lot of things seem really out of character to me? I don't know. The title and summary don't really fit either. Ugh, this is kind of a mess. Sorry! Thank you all for reading and the support and such!

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this.](http://johnnybitchface.tumblr.com/post/76908323365/ragnaroked-found-their-phone-number-in-a)
> 
> My first conception of the idea can be listened to [here](http://thesenotebooknotes.tumblr.com/post/76927584456/this-week-i-refuse-to-answer-questions-and).


End file.
